


love they say

by discopolice



Series: Fair Play [3]
Category: Wakfu
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discopolice/pseuds/discopolice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amalia brings Eva in the direction of adventure. No purpose, just fluffy semi-smut. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love they say

When lust for adventure blooms in a princess, a certain Cra disciple finds herself dragged into a whirlwind.

They’re sharing a dragoturkey now, bodies pressed against each other and warmth mixing in the spring chill, and Amalia grins over her shoulder and calls “hold on tight!” the millisecond before the dragoturkey takes off into the cloudy sky. Eva really has no choice but to shriek, reflexively grabbing hold of Amalia’s waist and clinging to that body for dear life.

“ _Warning, please!_ ” Yet the ruffling of wind through her short hair, even with the way Amalia’s  _mane_  gets in her face, is pleasant. They’re moving so fast she doesn’t have a mind to let go of Amalia’s waist, but does she want to, anyway? Her skin is so warm against her arms, thrumming with energy and  _life._  She might even be able to get used to this, she thinks as they rise above the treetops.

“No time to warn!” And the princess giggles, airy and light. “You scared?” Her hands, small and so, so soft, grasp over Eva’s to reassure her  _I’ve got you,_  and Eva’s irrationally calmed by the simple motion of Amalia’s fingers twiddling against the back of her hands.

“No, I’m not  _scared,_  just  _startled_ —“ A bout of turbulence hits them, and Eva yelps again, burying her head into Amalia’s shoulder. “Where are we going, anyway?!”

“Sufokia!” she answers. “There were some, heh, engagements I needed to break away from.” She’d almost seem  _sheepish_  were she not so open about blowing off her brother’s birthday.

“Figures,” Eva says, and flinches when the dragoturkey suddenly drags them upwards again.

Between Amalia’s scent and the feel of the soft skin of her waist, the sudden pressure between her legs is  _not_  what she needs right now.

When they land on a craggy outcropping by the shore, it’s a relief – both because she’s not at peril of falling off from Amalia’s bad piloting and because she’s become aware of growing arousal within her, a warm feeling boiling in the pit of her stomach. They feed the dragoturkey and send it away to go cart off some other traveler.

“Now, I think it’s time to have some food ourselv—“ Eva’s cut off by a kiss on the lips from Amalia, a wrapping of arms around neck that sends Eva’s brain sparking. She is a bodyguard, sure, but a woman with her own femininity as well; there is nothing she’d like quite more at that moment than to be protected, to have Amalia’s warm body pressing above hers, to have  _her._

“What if I want to eat  _you_ up?” She finds herself being guided down to the ground, heated words whispered by a princess into her ear, and she wraps her legs around the girl above her. They kiss and writhe and wrap around each other just for the slightest bit of friction, so warm and gentle-

Where did her shirt go? Eva vaguely remembers Amalia taking it off, but she’s not focused on what’s happening to her, more the way Amalia looks. She’s so used to always having her eyes on Amalia’s back that she never notices the little things – the light dusting of freckles on her face, the way her eyes go wide when she smiles, or the way her breasts swell against her soft frame. She’s less a princess than a goddess, all sweet touches and gentle curves, and Evangelyne is taken in by the beauty of her princess.  _Her_ princess, all hers to keep and protect.

And Eva takes good care of what’s hers.

Amalia’s nuzzling into her breasts now, loving them with warm, open-mouthed kisses, and Eva tangles her fingers in Amalia’s hair to coax her on. Each freckle on her chest gets a kiss, each tiny bruise a warm tongue brushing over it to soothe; when Amalia comes to her nipple and flickers her tongue over it, Eva gasps out a high-pitched moan and arches up.

“You’re so warm,” Amalia says against Eva’s pale skin, then takes a nipple into her mouth and sucks. Her hands rest against Eva’s waist, roam over her stomach equal parts softness and muscle, Eva’s Wakfu flowing into her and back out again. Eva’s mind reels, and everything is Amalia’s living body resting against hers, her eyes looking upwards at her and their legs tangling together against the rock.

Eva desires blindly, desires the feeling of Amalia’s hips against hers, so she grasps her shoulders and wraps her legs around Amalia’s waist; the princess slides up, thighs thick like ancient trees rubbing against one another, and presses herself forward to hear one of those sweet moans from Eva’s mouth. She nuzzles Eva’s neck, takes the tip of one of her ears into her mouth to nibble and kiss, and Eva groans as her tongue, practiced from public speaking and the duties of her kingdom, traces the shell.

The Cra takes her time to trace the lines of Amalia’s soft, full body with her hands, stripping her carefully and with the most deliberate of movements, and her princess shivers from the touch of her callused fingers. Soon they’re both nude, and the cold touch of rock on Eva’s back contrasts so  _perfectly_  with Amalia’s heat, and it feels so blessedly  _good_  to let go.

When their legs tangle and flesh pushes up against wet, pink flesh, Eva gasps out Amalia’s name, and Amalia breathes Eva’s in return. It’s simple enough, practiced enough for them to establish their rhythm, grinding while hands wander, across taut muscles and shaking thighs, tense stomachs and soft breasts; the slick rub of Eva’s clit against Amalia’s lips makes her whimper and tremble beneath the power of royalty.

How funny; she’d always fancied herself the fighter.

When Amalia comes, she shrieks, throwing her head back and gushing out warm, sweet liquid; Eva takes it in for just a split-second, takes in Amalia’s face contorting in pleasure and the way her nipples stand on end and the feeling of her hand in her hair, before she’s coming in powerful waves that could knock her off her feet were she not already on her back. Her whole body pulses a few last times, shaking the orgasm out of her, before she collapses boneless onto the rock, and Amalia with her, to lie in warm and sweaty afterglow.

“Good detour?” Amalia asks playfully, and Eva just laughs.


End file.
